


Allow Me

by Avistella



Category: Fire Emblem Heroes, Fire Emblem Series
Genre: F/M, Gender-neutral Reader, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, POV Second Person, Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-08
Updated: 2018-07-08
Packaged: 2019-06-07 01:32:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15207890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Avistella/pseuds/Avistella
Summary: Alfonse makes a comment on how dependable you are but then realizes that perhaps you want to be able to depend on someone else for once.





	Allow Me

There's a chorus of relieved sighs and groans as you and the team you brought into the Training Tower return to the castle, a couple of the Heroes left with some injuries while the rest are unscathed. It's a bit of a slow process trying to get some Heroes to a certain level, but you're more than grateful towards the more experienced ones who don't mind carrying the team through if need be.

The injured units shuffle over to some healers for help while you in turn head towards the medical room by yourself to retrieve a first aid kit for your own injuries. There are times when you'll get hurt in the Tower by getting caught in the middle of a fray, but you always make sure to hide them from the others. You don't want to worry anyone, after all.

Your feet pad over inside the medical room that's surprisingly empty, and you move over to take out the first aid kit from the top of the shelf. Unfortunately, you overestimated yourself and the shelf is much taller than you, keeping the kit away from your grasp no matter how much you stretch your uninjured arm or stand on your tip toes.

Huffing to yourself as you plant your feet back onto the ground, you jump in your own skin when a voice speaks up from behind you. "Would you like some help?"

You turn around to scold whoever silently approached you to not scare you like that, but the words die on your tongue when you find clear blue eyes staring back into your own. An apologetic look crosses over Alfonse's face before his gaze falls onto the large cut on your arm. Immediately, his expression falls to that of a frown, concern obvious behind his eyes, and he wordlessly approaches the shelf to get the first aid kit you were previously reaching for.

You offer a quick word of gratitude as you take the box from the prince's hands, bringing the kit over to the nearby desk and sitting down on the available chair. You open up the container of items to help with injuries and take out the disinfectant to clean your wound.

There's an awkward silence hanging in the air as Alfonse lingers around, and he notes that your injury is on your dominant arm. Thinking back to personal experiences, the young royal understands how awkward and clumsy trying to treat a wound with the non-dominant arm can be, and he makes his way to the desk as well, retrieving the roll of gauze.

"I'm glad that I can depend on you amidst all this fighting, but allow me to help out too," he offers with a quiet tone, something about the sight of you taking care of your own wounds by yourself tugging at his heartstrings.

"I'm fine," you assure the young prince with a cheery grin that looks far too forced as you take the gauze from his hands, but he can still see the pain and loneliness lurking behind your eyes when your fingertips brush against one another. "I know how to take care of myself since nobody else ever did."

At that, Alfonse falls quiet, taking in a sharp inhale of breath. You had said it in such a nonchalant manner, it took him a moment to properly realize the sadness of those words, and it made his heart throb. He swallows the sudden uncomfortable lump in his throat, and he finds himself almost unable to look at you now. It was not your intention to make him feel guilty, but he feels as such nevertheless.

The prince's arms lie loosely by his sides as he watches you begin your work on patching up your injury with a practiced hand. Thinking back on it now, he should have thought it as odd that you were able to treat wounds so well despite your confession that you've never been in the thick of war and strife before. But he realizes now that maybe it was a lie, or at the very least, a half-truth. Not all wars are external. Not all wars are done with weapons.

The words you said before ring and echo is Alfonse's mind. He knows all too well the burden of shouldering personal responsibilities before one is even ready for them. To be thrust upon such situations ages people faster than one might expect, and it distances themselves from others because that is what they learned at such an impressionable age. Alfonse knows because he's the prince of a kingdom that was suddenly at war, but you... He can't possibly imagine the things you've gone through to lose such faith and trust, blinded by your own sadness to other people's kindness.

With a heavy heart, the Askran prince sighs as he stretches out his hand towards you, palm open. You pause with your actions for a brief second, quirking up an eyebrow in confusion. Alfonse's gaze is steady and determined as he tells you, "I'll help."

The corners of your lips tug into an uncertain smile, twitching almost like you don't know what expression to make, and you shake your head. "Really, Alfonse, it's fine. Like I said, I can—"

" _Please_ ," the young man urges, and he looks pained. He's sharing in your pain, you realize, and your resolve slowly crumbles.

Memories of times you've asked for help to only be turned away surfaced to the front of your mind. Whenever you would go to rely on someone, you would only be met with disappointment and a sense of self-loathing when you were belittled and mocked for not knowing how to do something. You learned at an impressionable age that you could only count on yourself and no one else because nobody cared about you. 

But that's wrong. At the very least, Alfonse cares, and it's a bit difficult for you to swallow. You hesitate for a few seconds, internally struggling with yourself that you can trust Alfonse. He isn't like the others, and you know that he is someone you can depend on.

The Askran prince notices the way your hand visibly trembles as you give him the gauze to help with your injury, but he decides against commenting on it. You bow your head down to look at your lap, a meek attempt to hide your face, but Alfonse can still see the way your lips press themselves together into a quivering line like you're trying to hold yourself together.

Alfonse takes hold your arm in the most gentle of ways, and something in you breaks down from his caring touch, a quiet sob escaping your lips. The young man remains silent, a solemn expression on his face as he treats your wound as he listens to your soft and suppressed whimpers. Not all wounds are external, but with proper time and care, they can still heal.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find more of my stuff on [my Tumblr](http://avistella.tumblr.com/)


End file.
